I often imagine how Vladimir Vysotskiy would haved played Fedya Protasov.
How would he have communicated the feeling of essential freedom, how would he have told us what happened to him when he listened to music – neither Beethoven nor opera, but gypsy music. But the main thing is how Vysotsky would have communicated the feeling of burning shame. Nobody wants to burn with that shame, and therefore he suppresses the feeling in himself – and becomes shameless. There are so many shameless people around us now. So many. They’re well-protected. And the rest are helpless.
Vysotskiy was strong, in a sense; certainly not helpless, but the feeling of shame was well-known to him, I’m sure. It was his feeling; it was like he experienced it not only for himself, but also for others. Therefore, he suffered.